


Vacation

by cotsponlon



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Ace Jojo and Elmer, Drug and Alcohol Use, Established Jack/Crutchie, Established Katherine/Sarah, Established Specs/Romeo, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Jack and Crutchie are poly, Les is not there because he's a wee boy and they're doing adult party things, M/M, Modern Era, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Resort, Summer, Trans Elmer - Freeform, Work In Progress, beach, college students, trans race
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 07:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cotsponlon/pseuds/cotsponlon
Summary: Some of the Newsies are taking a trip to a resort over the summer. Everyone's super gay and pining. Enjoy.





	1. Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a long fic with many chapters. I'll add to the tags as I go, but there will be: swimming! Summer Fun! Romance! Drama! General newsie antics and a bit of smut. Centered around Sprace and Jack/Crutchie/Davey.

As a man who lived and spent most of his time in New York City, Davey Jacobs was unsure how to pack for a beach vacation in Malibu. Sweaters were off limits, and Davey had one pair of shorts. He’d gone to Coney Island twice, he supposed he should be somewhat prepared, but he had worn old T-shirt into the water those times and had bundled up directly after. Davey stood over his suitcase which sat on his bed, where he’d thrown together all he could. 

“Jack?” Davey called. 

“Yah?” Jack Kelly poked his head out from the bathroom of their shared apartment. A toothbrush stuck out of his mouth and his hair was a mess. Though he was, as he insisted yesterday, already packed, it was clear he had woken up about 10 minutes ago. 

“C’mere. Tell me if my packing job looks acceptable.” Davey heard Jack spit out his toothpaste and briefly run the sink, before meandering sleepily over. He draped his arm across Davey’s shoulders, surveying his friend’s suitcase. 

“D’ya have more shorts?” Jack asked almost immediately. Davey shook his head. Jack rifled carefully through Davey’s stuff. “Dave, I gotta tell ya. As cute as you look in corduroys, you will be miserable.”

“I have swim trunks.”

Jack snorted. “Yeah, for swimming. Tell me, are you planning on clubbing with me and the rest of the guys?”

“Um...I guess?”

“Well, no hot Malibu guys are gonna want to grind on a dork wearing swim trunks as pants. Oh, and don’t forget, they’re swim trunks with fuckin’ snakes on them.”

Davey blushed, playfully shoving Jack away. “Ok, ok, I get it!”

“Tell ya what.” Jack grabbed Davey’s arm, leading him to the other bedroom. “I’ve got one or two pairs extra. He knelt by his dresser to dig through the bottom drawer. “Crutchie’ll be here soon and we’ll leave for the airport, but try, uh-” He stacked a few pairs on his arm. “-these ones.” He tossed the shorts to Davey, who fumbled to catch them. One was a simple pair of khaki shorts, regular length. The second pair was pastel blue. And the third-

“Jack.”

“Huh?” He was distracted, sitting on the bed looking at his phone.

“These are like, ridiculously short.”

Jack looked up. “Eh, could be worse. If you’re not comfortable you don’t have to bring ‘em, but I think they’ll cover up all the important bits.”

Davey, not convinced, ran the item through his hands. The shorts were a soft, dark, gray, with two vertical white stripes on each side. Jack was a bit shorter than him, so on Davey they would likely only cover the very tops of his thighs. “Don’t you have anything else?”

“Not that I didn’t pack. And the other two I gave you are about the longest I own.”

Davey sighed. “Ok, I’ll be right back.” He walked quickly into his room and closed the door behind himself. Jack chuckled. 

“Question.” His friend’s voice called from the other side of the door

“Uh huh?”

“Should I, uh, maybe shave my legs or something? For the really short ones?”

Jack chuckled. “No, not if ya don’t want to. Why?”

“They’re so hairy.”

“It’s not like we haven’t all seen your hairy legs, Dave.” Jack leaned against the door as he spoke to his friend. “Nobody will care.”

“Ok, uh-” The door opened and out stepped Davey. He stood awkwardly, feeling strange about the amount of air he could feel on his legs. The tiny gray shorts fit better then he’d expected, but gave Davey a sense of blatant indecency. He gave a sort of “What do you think?” shrug, turning in a circle.

Jack whistled, looking his friend up and down. “Who’s this fella? Lookin’ good.” 

Davey laughed nervously. “You sure? ‘Cause I’ve never really, y’know, done this look before.”

“One hundred percent sure.” The two of them heard a car door slam outside, and Jack’s face lit up even more than it had before. “You can ask Crutchie, I’m sure he’ll agree.”

The lock on the front door clicked, and Jack went to answer it. Crutchie stood in the doorway, evidently in beach mode. He was wearing a pastel yellow t-shirt, and had his snapback on backwards. The summertime look was somewhat diminished by a zip-up hoodie, armor against the early morning New York weather. They would only have to be in it a bit longer. 

“Hey!” Crutchie grinned, pulling Jack in for a quick kiss. “You boys about ready?”

Jack ran a hand through his boyfriend’s hair affectionately. “I sure am. And David over here?” He gestured to where Davey was leaning awkwardly in the hall. “He’s about to take Malibu by storm.”

Crutchie gave a little gasp when he saw Davey. “You. Look. So. Good.” He clapped with every word for emphasis. He circled the other man. “Are those yours? No way those are yours.”

Davey laughed. “No, no, they’re Jack’s. I own a grand total of 1 pair of shorts.” 

“Ah.” Crutchie nodded. “Well, hopefully now you’re more prepared! Can we go in about 5 minutes? Race and Kath are driving everyone else in their cars, we said we’d be at the airport at noon.”

“Yep, on it.” Jack gave Crutchie a quick peck on the cheek before hustling to his room to grab his suitcase. As Davey headed to his own room to change, he could see both the other men stealing glances at him as he walked. It was good that his friends could make him feel a little more confident, especially since he’d been initially nervous about the look. Friends are good like that, they “hype you up”, as Race would say. And that’s what they were, Davey thought. Some good friends. Good friends who could look at his ass as long as they wanted to. It’s all in the name of being supportive.


	2. Mile High and Lo-fi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spot doesn't like flying. Finch and Albert are super straight pals being bros. This one's short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of vomit

“If you’re gonna throw up, maybe we should switch seats. That way you can barf into the aisle.” Elmer suggested to an incredibly nervous-looking Spot. Spot grunted, unamused, and put up the hood of his sweatshirt. He sat in between Elmer and Race.

From across the aisle, Jojo leaned towards Elmer. “Hey, let him be. Being scared of flying? Valid. Besides, he’s not gonna throw up.” He looked at Spot, suddenly unsure. “Are you?” Race, smirking, pulled the barf bag from his seat pocket and offered it to Spot. Spot glared at him, and Race put it down without losing his grin.

“M’fine.” Spot mumbled. “When do we get the ginger ale and shit?”

Albert leaned out from his seat between Jojo and Finch. “Oh, didn’t you hear? A lady came by with a cart earlier saying ‘Ginger Ale and shit? Anyone for Ginger Ale and shit?’”

“Oh, fuck off.” Spot cracked a small smile.

“Fair.” Albert nodded. “Actually I uh, have to go to the bathroom.” He got up and squeezed past Jojo, throwing a quick glance back. He and Finch made brief eye contact before he headed towards the airplane lavatory. About 30 seconds later, Finch cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I have to go too.” He undid his seatbelt and moved past a vaguely annoyed Jojo, who scooted his legs to the side and out of the way. Once Finch was gone, Elmer and Jojo regarded one another with raised eyebrows. All of this was lost on Spot and Race.

Spot was determined to get comfortable. He had flown one other time in his life, and this flight felt not even remotely easier. He popped his neck, changed his sitting position, and eventually gave an exasperated sigh.

Race (who had put in earbuds and was now blasting music loud enough that you could hear it if you were next to him) noticed Spot’s restlessness. “Dude.” He said, talking too loud because he couldn’t hear himself. “Maybe you should-” Race pulled out one earbud before realizing and speaking quieter. “Maybe you should like, take a nap or something. Then the flight’ll be over faster, yeah?”

Spot considered. “Don’t think I’d be able to. Too nervous.”

Race nodded. Then an idea flashed across his freckled face. “Oh, do you want an earbud? We can listen to stuff.” Spot raised an eyebrow at this. Race opened his phone. “I know what you’re thinkin’, but what I listen to isn’t all loud trashy music.”

“Just most of it.” Spot deadpanned, teasing.

“First of all, rude. Also, no, I have chill stuff. Here, listen.” He handed Spot the left earbud. “Behold: chill stuff.”

Spot put it in and was greeted with soft piano backed by a subtle beat. Race bobbed his head a little to the music. “It’s low-fi...somethin. I think. I dunno shit about music.”

Whatever it was proved to be more relaxing than the voices, engines, and hums of the airplane. The idea of falling asleep to the sound of it slowly seemed less and less impossible to Spot. His stomach had settled a bit, and he closed his eyes. He leaned on to the airplane seat’s headrest, something that seemed to have been designed to be soft but felt like a brick wall.

He sat back up, and looked over at Race, who also seemed relaxed. “Can I, uh-” Spot began, gesturing at Race’s shoulder. The other boy looked confused for a second. Spot cleared his throat. “Like, can I um, rest my head-”

‘’Oh. Yeah yeah yeah. Of course.” Race shifted closer so that his friend could lay on his shoulder. Spot settled in despite the other blond boy’s scrawny frame, and the two of them sat sharing music peacefully.

Elmer looked at them and smiled. “Cute.” He mused to Jojo, who nodded.

Race eventually fell asleep, and he and Spot were out for the rest of the flight. They didn’t even notice Albert coming back from the bathroom, fixing his hair, followed about a minute later by a flushed Finch. Albert had a mark on his neck that hadn’t been there before he left. The two casually settled back into their seats.


End file.
